And Thus Our Days Have Ended
by Thehayreader
Summary: The wars have ended, humanity has been destroyed. Those who have survived must try and rebuild civilization, but the horrors of the wars are nothing compared to what awaits them.


His mind thinks back to the way life had Been, full of joy, full of happiness. The trees would bring life to the hills they stood on, their lush green illuminating the valleys.

Animals would roam the plains and valleys, the trees and shrubs nurturing them like a mother nurturing her son.

The cities bustled with life, stopping naught to the darkness of the night, the people taking for granted the the paradise they lived in.

He remembers camping with his father, huddled around a campfire as his fathers told stories of the heroes of old. Tales of the mighty Fianna. But like the Fianna these are just memories, memories of a time long gone.

Now, now some forests stand like shells of their former selves, only stumps remain, blackened and charred beyond recognition. The rest stand corrupted, the radiation changing them.

What wildlife remains is twisted, the beauty of old town away, replaced by shadows of their former past. They him in packs, searching for food. Preying on the weak that roam the ruins. There are names for such beasts, but words could not describe what some have become, abominations of nature, shadows of their former selves. Some remain pure, but many of succumb to the darkness of death.

Memories of his family flood his mind, he sees them laughing, laughing at his warnings, thinking that the threats of war were only that. His father had wanted him taken away, they thought him crazy unable to decipher reality from fantasy. He remembers them spending hours trying to convince them that their lies were truth.

As the weeks has drawn on he had known that the danger was eminent. He had left as the darkness overtook their minds, only the moon to illuminated his path, leaving only a not in his wake.

He has waited, waited for them to understand their mistake, waited for them to come looking for him. But they had not, they waited for bombs, laughing and dancing the days away. They waited for a death for only for the devil himself.

He spent weeks in the shelter, listing to the bombs as they walls themselves shook form their force. He dreamed of the sites above, the corrupted Suns bringing moments of light before the eternal darkness engulfed the world.

His mind broken by the dreams his dream contemplated death, the thought of living to painful to consider. He had tried, he had made the noose, and kicked the chair, but each time the rope had broke, till finally the accepted that the pain was all he was.

The screams of the radio has echoes through the room at first, the screams of the living begging for help, as the radiation slowly corrupted their very being.

He and wondered at first why the screamed, did they expect help from a voice? But it soon became clear that they feared dying alone more than death itself.

As the last of the screamers died, he began his own search, a search for those still alive, for those who could help rebuild civilisation. But as the days drew on, the hope slowly faded, till only the memory of others like him remained.

The thought of leaving had slowly taken grip within his mind, but he knew without someone way to survive the radiation he would die a death like all the others.

His hand had shook has he opened the valve, the valve that would let the radiator in. He hope that he could slowly become immune. He knew there was two possible outcomes, either he would die, the pain and suffering all but gone. Or he would survive, and live to see all he loved destroyed and corrupted.

He had braced himself as the valve opened, bracing for the pain that was to come, but only the warmth of the air had met him, it was like the earth had cleaned the air itself. He had learned later on that there was others like him, immune to the radiation. But the immunity couldn't save them from the sights it had left them.

When he and returned only the bodies of the ones he had known greeted him, bodies lying in pools of their own bloodied vomit, decomposing as the birds feared in the plate laid before them. Their skin hung from their bones, their faces reliving their last moments of pain before they died, the signs of joy they had felt when they realised that death awaited.

Is family had left him a note of blood as they were slowly corrupted, cursing him for not saving them, cursing him for leaving them to die.

Their faces still haunt his every step, their accusing eyes blaming him for their deaths. Others beg him for mercy, beg him to release them from the shells they can't escape.

In the days that followed his return his mind, unable to comprehend the sights that has greeted it, retreated into itself, hiding in the safety of the darkness, away from the pain laced light. Healing slowly as it came to terms with the broken world it found itself in.

In doing so it had left (lads name) to wander aimlessly, each body slowly imprinting itself into his memory, slowly corrupting him in ways unseen. It became the sight he woke to, reminding him of the failures of his father's. It became the sight he slept to, the bibles images haunting his every dream.

He and tried to suppress the thoughts, but the more he fought the harder it became. After long days of suffering he surrendered to them, accepting them for what they were, allowing them to carve his morals.


End file.
